


Safe In My Hands

by CiaraSky



Series: Can't Help (Looking Out For You) [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, F/M, Fluff, Hospitals, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiaraSky/pseuds/CiaraSky
Summary: “Raven?” she called, knitting her eyebrows.“Quick, get out of the shower,” Raven called back, worry in her tone. Clarke immediately knew that something must be wrong because her friend never used that tone unless something was, indeed, wrong.Slinging a towel around herself, Clarke got out of the tub and opened the door, where she saw herself immediately confronted with Raven. There were tears in her eyes.“Raven, what happened?” Clarke demanded, placing her hand on Raven's shoulder.***#2 of 20 fromhurt/comfort dialog prompts





	Safe In My Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Two one shots in two days, starting off strong! So, I changed the quote a little bit because I just wasn't inspired by the original wording. But it's about writing anything at all, right?!  
> As always, please leave kudos and/or comments if you liked it, I appreciate it a lot! Thanks so much for reading!

“I’m gonna lay down and die for like half an hour okay?” Clarke wheezed, looking at the ceiling.

“You're already laying down,” Raven pointed out and started to laugh.

“Whatever,” Clarke huffed, taking a deep breath as she tried to even out her breathing. 

“This is for your own good, you know. You need exercise, Clarke.”

Now Raven appeared in her field of view, upside down, her arms crossed. Clarke groaned.

“I know you're right but sport is the woooooooorst,” she whined, but finally propped herself up on her elbows.

“That's just the first days. Once you get routine, it'll be great,” Raven argued, wiping the, in Clarke's opinion, non-existent sweat from her forehead. Clarke herself, on the other hand? Her shirt stuck to her back in a very gross way, not to mention the state of her shirt's armpits. And her hair stuck to her forehead and neck, basically everywhere a strand had come loose from her ponytail.

“Yeah I don't think so,” Clarke retorted, gratefully accepting the towel Raven handed her. 

“I don't care and you know it,” Raven said nonchalantly, taking a sip from her bottle of water. “You want the beach body. I'm just helping.”

“You know that you're right and I hate you for it,” Clarke groaned, tilting her head back in defeat.

“Nah, you love me,” Raven replied as she rounded Clarke and extended her hand to help her friend get up. Clarke accepted. “And by the way,” Raven continued, putting her arm around Clarke's shoulder, “you weren't even that bad for your first workout.”

Clarke huffed in amusement, leaning her head against Raven's shoulder.

“But still, you should get in the shower before me. This is beyond disgusting,” Raven laughed and peeled Clarke's arm from around her waist. Clarke simply responded by sticking her tongue out, but proceeded to head for the bathroom.

Stripping out of the damp clothes was satisfying. Letting the cool water run over her hot skin was even more satisfying. But getting rid of the sweat with shampoo and shower gel was the most satisfying thing of it all.

Clarke stood under the stream a bit longer, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander. She was almost done with her bachelor thesis, summer was within reach, there was a good chance she'd get a job at a hospital here in San Diego so that she could keep the flat with Raven, there was this cu–

Thump thump thump.

Clarke opened her eyes confused and pulled back the shower curtain.

“Raven?” she called, knitting her eyebrows. 

“Quick, get out of the shower,” Raven called back, worry in her tone. Clarke immediately knew that something must be wrong because her friend never used that tone unless something was, indeed, wrong. 

Slinging a towel around herself, Clarke got out of the tub and opened the door, where she saw herself immediately confronted with Raven. There were tears in her eyes.

“Raven, what happened?” Clarke demanded, placing her hand on Raven's shoulder.

“Octavia just called. It's Bellamy. He's in the hospital,” Raven whispered, trying to hold back her tears.

Clarke inhaled sharply, stumbling back against the door frame.

“Where is he?” she asked. Raven furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Clarke grabbed her by both shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. “Raven, which hospital is Bellamy at?”

Raven snapped out of it, shaking her head, quickly wiping away a tear that rolled down her cheek.

“Uhh... I think O said... Mercy,” Raven stuttered. Clarke just now realized how firm she had gripped Raven's shoulders and she let go off them.

“We're going there now. I'll just throw on something,” she said, studying Raven's face. The brunette nodded.

When Clarke closed the door to her room behind her, she leaned against the door, tears suddenly blurring her vision.

“God fucking damn it,” she whispered under her breath. Images of Bellamy, bloodied and injured began to form in her mind, but she shoved them far away. _No, he's gonna be fine, he's gonna be fine_ , she thought to herself as she put on her clothes and tried to put her still wet hair into a ponytail so her clothes wouldn't get soaking wet, too. _He's gonna be fine._

Taking a shaky breath, Clarke looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were red even tho she didn't even really cry, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

It was Sunday Morning and the streets were thankfully quite empty so they made it to the hospital in less than half an hour. Clarke drummed her fingers on the steering wheel the whole ride, seemingly unable to stop herself, even tho Raven told her three times that it made her more anxious than she already was. But Raven kept changing the radio station every few minutes, which in turn made Clarke more anxious than she already was. 

Both girls were relieved when they finally arrived at the hospital and could get out of the car.

“Which station?” Clarke asked as they made their way to the entrance.

“Octavia just sent the room number a few minutes ago. 623,” Raven replied, entering the building. Clarke took a look at the map next to the entrance, quickly figuring out where they had to go and leading the way. 

As the two girls stood in the elevator, confined in this small space, nothing to take her mind off of what was about to happen, tears started swelling in Clarke's eyes again.

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath, staring at the ceiling. Her damp hair tickled her neck.

“Hey,” Raven said softly, but then the elevator pinged and the doors opened. She gave Clarke a small smile that wasn't really a smile, but more of a “I know how you feel, and I feel the same, but we need to be there for him”-look.

It didn't take them long to find Bellamy's room. Clarke knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. Octavia looked up from where she was sitting by Bellamy's bed, her eyes puffy and red.

Clarke crossed the distance with unsteady steps and her breath caught when she could finally see Bellamy behind the half drawn back curtain. 

The left side of his face was blue and purple, a large cut across his cheek stitched up and his left arm as well as his left foot were in a cast.

She reached out for Bellamy's right hand, almost laughing in relief when it felt as warm and soft as she remembered. _He's gonna be fine._ Clarke studied the rest of his face, the soft curls falling into his forehead, his closed eyes, one as she remembered, the other swollen. The gentle curve of his lips, same as usual.

“What happened?” Raven broke the silence and Clarke was jerked back to the reality of not being alone in the room with Bellamy. She turned around to Octavia.

“Some fucker ran a red light. Hit Bell right in the driver's side. Walked away with just a concussion! Can you believe that! Urgh if I find that asshole I'm gonna–”

“You're not gonna do anything,” Clarke said, trying to sound calm. She was far from it, but nobody needed to know that. Raven shot her a look out of the corner of her eye, raising an eyebrow. “You really think Bell would like that?” 

Octavia opened her mouth to protest, inhaling sharply, and then slowly exhaling again, clenching her jaw. Clarke could see the sadness in her eyes replacing the anger. 

“How long did the nurse say he'd be out?” Raven asked, looking at Bellamy and rounding Clarke to get a closer look at him.

“Probably like half an hour,” Octavia replied, sitting back down in her chair. 

“Anyone coffee, then?” Raven inquired, turning around from Bellamy to face them. She was still antsy, tapping her foot steadily. Raven saw that Clarke had noticed and added: “You know damn well I hate hospitals after the whole “Getting shot in a fucking heist”-drama.”

Clarke nodded understandingly, requesting an iced coffee. Octavia wanted a simple black one. 

The silence stretched between Clarke and Octavia when Raven left, so Clarke simply sat down in the chair opposite Octavia. Now she saw Bellamy's bruised face, and she couldn't stand looking at it. All the time she'd known him, he had always been there when something had happened to her, always strong, always ready to cheer or patch her up, whatever she needed in that moment. But now she was the one who needed to be strong instead, and the weight of it made it almost impossible for her to breathe. 

_He's gonna be fine._

_He's gonna be fine._

_He's gonna be fine._

Maybe if she told herself often enough, that crushing worry that made the blood rush in her ears would go away. Rationally, she knew his injuries weren't bad at all, that everything would heal in a matter of weeks, but her rationality seemed to have disappeared.

“I told him to get rid of that piece of junk truck just yesterday, you know,” Octavia whispered, not looking up, holding Bellamy's hand. “That piece of shit has no airbags, I said. That car is gonna kill you one day, I said. He laughed and said nothing is gonna happen, that that car is his baby and he's gonna drive it as long as it's running. And now look what happened, Bell!” Octavia cried out, no longer talking to Clarke. She dropped her head onto their entwined hands, sobbing. 

“Hey, he's gonna be fine,” Clarke said gently. Octavia's head snapped up, her face twisted in anger.

“Screw you, Clarke,” Octavia spit at her and sprung up from her chair, storming out of the room. Clarke looked after her, bewildered. Octavia was a piece of work...

She stood up to close the door that O had left open as she stormed off, and sat down in the chair on Bellamy's right side, taking his hand again. Still warm, still soft.

_ He's gonna be fine. _

“You're an idiot for keeping that car, I told you more than once,” Clarke muttered, rubbing her thumb across the back of Bellamy's hand. “But you're so god damn stubborn.” She couldn't help but chuckle a bit. “So god damn stubborn.”

The door opened and Clarke turned around to see Raven with their drinks in a cup holder entering, looking confused around the room.

“Octavia got... well, she needed to cool off. I don't know where she went,” Clarke quickly explained and took her coffee from Raven.

“Okay, then I'm gonna go look for her. Shoot me a text when he wakes up,” she replied, leaving the room. 

Clarke took a sip from her coffee and sat it down on the bedside table, taking Bellamy's hand again. She absentmindedly traced the veins running across the back of his hand, drawing patterns on his skin as she watched his face. His chest rose and fell slow and steady and Clarke tried to match her breathing to his to calm herself down some more. Her rationality was slowly coming back, and she began to feel stupid for being so emotional earlier. _Of course he's gonna be fine._

“Clarke?” 

Her eyes snapped back to his face and her breathing became shaky. Bellamy was looking at her and the tears were back in her eyes, one already rolling down her cheek.

“Bell?” she whispered unbelievingly, scooting closer to him. “Hey, I'm here.” She couldn't help the smile that lit up her face despite the crying. Bellamy's grip around her hand increased, and she looked down at their entwined fingers. 

“I guess I should've listened to you,” Bellamy rasped and Clarke looked back at him. He must've seen the confusion on her face because he continued, “About getting a better car.”

Clarke chuckled and the smallest of smiles lifted the corners of Bellamy's mouth, too. 

“God, I hate you,” she said and untangled their hands so she could lean over him, pressing her lips to his forehead. 

Suddenly, Bellamy's hand curled around the back of her neck, keeping her close. She looked into his eyes, so much closer than ever before. Her breath got caught in her throat. 

_ I'm gonna be fine. _

“I hate you too,” Bellamy whispered, his thumb on her cheek. Clarke leaned into the touch, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, Bellamy was smirking.

“Next time, don't wait until you get in an accident to tell me that, okay?” she whispered, touching her forehead against his. 

“Nothing like a little life and death situation to tell the girl you've been crushing on forever to tell her you like her,” Bellamy reply, his thumb ever so softly running across her cheek. 

“You're an idiot, Bell,” Clarke sighed and closed the remaining space between them, tenderly kissing him. Soft, warm. Like his hands. 

_ I'm gonna be fine. _

_ I'm gonna be fine. _

_ I'm gonna be fine _

 


End file.
